


Yumebakura

by riverbanks



Category: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger
Genre: F/M, Gap Filler, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-06
Updated: 2009-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverbanks/pseuds/riverbanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Slow", is what Dayu calls her, but what Mako hears is "weak".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yumebakura

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the eps 25-26 Yumebakura arc.

"Slow", is what Dayu calls her, but what Mako hears is "weak". Sloppy. Unfocused. Easily distracted by some sad story, easily betrayed by her own feelings of compassion towards someone who doesn't want or need any.

Mako bites her tongue hard, her brows furrowing as she replays the scene over and over in her head. Beside her, Kotoha looks up with those big bright eyes and asks, "Mako-chan, are you ok?"

She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She asks Chiaki to finish patching Kotoha's arm and steps out of the room softly, pretending not to listen when they call her name.

{ 天 }

Mako stares at the apron and the cookbook she just bought a few hours ago for a long time, but all she really sees is Dayu's smirking face, scorning her for being such a fool. For caring so much. She wants to set it all on fire, burn her stupid childish dreams away the same way Dayu burned her human heart down.

She settles for trashing everything before a kuroko sees her in the kitchen and calls the others. The last thing she needs now is more eyes witnessing her weakness.

When she turns around, sure enough Hikoma-san is there, watching the scene with sharp eyes, and Mako has but a split-second to pull herself together and show him a strong face. She tells him she's reaffirming her resolution as a samurai, but the truth is this is all just theatre, a pantomime she has to put up to convince herself to let go. The naive little girl full of idyllic hopes and dreams still lives inside her, smiling and waiting, and she still wants to reach out to Dayu and ask her why, and if Mako could just rip this part of herself apart with her own hands right now and trash it away with the frilly pink apron, she would.

{ 天 }

When Takeru declares he's meeting Juzo's challenge alone and Genta falls to his knees before her, it's all Mako can do to hold herself perfectly still and not breathe one breath out of time. She can't look at Takeru right now - she can't face the reflection of her own doubts in his eyes right now.

Around her everyone is fretting and arguing, but all Mako can hear is Dayu's low, disdainful chuckles burning in her ears. Genta's and Ryunosuke's voices make her sick, and before she knows, Mako is sending Takeru off into a pointless duel that could land their lord dead over little more than stubborn pride. If he's the only one who can do this, then that's what he must do.

She doesn't regret her words, even as they later find Takeru beaten to a pulp, bleeding his pride off. She knows. They can't hesitate. Not when there are lives at stake, lives that need to be protected no matter what. She doesn't regret them even as Takeru looks up and smiles at them, before he passes out beside the shards of Juzo's sword.

{ 天 }

Around her everyone is laughing and shouting, and this time Mako's smile is genuine. It makes the little girl in her heart smile too, and Mako lets her be. Takeru looks happy despite his miserable state, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders and burned away in the same fire that consumed Juzo's venom. Kotoha is telling Genta it's ok to dream big, and Mako is just relieved to see that the cut on her arm seems better.

Hikoma-san tells her in his own way what she already knows - that maybe her dreams might not amount to much in the end, but unless she wants to share the same fate of their enemies, she needs to hang on to them. She understands now. If hanging onto happiness is her weakness, then she doesn't mind being weak. As long as she stays true to herself, as long as her dreams don't allow her spirit to break, she is strong. Stronger than Dayu's sunken heart could ever hope to be.

 

\--

 

 

 

[ o-ma-ke ]

Takeru's arm is not fully healed yet, but Mako knows better than to argue him for it when he walks out to the gardens, shinai in hand. Ryunosuke and the others will be here as soon as they catch wind by the kuroko that the lord intends to practice left-armed until the right one is good again, anyway.

He passes her side, and Mako doesn't need to look up from her cookbook to know he's hiding a small smile behind the back turned her way.

"Are you back to yourself?" he asks, and it's Mako's turn to smirk.

"Are you?"

From inside the house comes the stomping of a thousand horses, and in a second, Ryunosuke and Genta are fawning and fretting in wild theatrics all over Takeru, while Chiaki and Kotoha are pulling her to her feet by the arms.

"Nee-san, hurry up, the kitchen's on fire!"

Mako still glances back over her shoulder one more time at the book now thrown over the porch before she remembers the recipe probably said 15 minutes, not 45.


End file.
